been watching for it. It was a man's
figure that started forward, came to the edge of the road, and waited.
The man looked more than his slender height in the shadow, but his
light, quick walk was unmistakable. It was Colonel Everard.

"Stop, Parks," Judith said, with new authority in her voice.

He stood waiting for her silently, without any greeting at all, and she
slipped her hand into his and stepped out and stood beside him.

"Go on," he said to the chauffeur. "It's too rough here for the car.
It's easier on foot. Miss Randall will walk with me."

The car, skilfully manipulated along the steep, zigzag road, but a
clumsy thing at best here in the woods, and an artificial and ugly
thing, lumbered away, breaking through outreaching branches. Judith
watched it out of sight. Then and not till then she turned to her host.

"Aren't you going to speak to me?" the great man inquired respectfully,
as if her intentions deserved the most serious consideration.

"Yes," said Judith serenely, unflattered by it.

"What are you going to say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to shake hands with me."

A hand touched his lightly. It drew quickly away, but it was a confiding
little hand.

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

"I'm not," said Judith.

"But you're glad to see me?"

"Yes."

"It's stuffy inside, and they've got a fire in the billiard room and
won't leave it. I wanted----"

Judith laughed and let him draw her hand through his arm as they began
to grope their way down the road. "You wanted to meet me."

She made the correction triumphantly and confidently, as she would have
made it to Willard. All this was coquetry, as she and Willard understood
it, and it was an old game to her, and a childish game, but there was
something strangely exciting about the fact that the Colonel understood
it, too, and condescended to play at it. It was more exciting than usual
to-night.

"Why should I want to meet you?" he said.

"I don't know."

"Why weren't you downstairs last night when I came to see your father?"

"I was tired."

"You weren't running away from me?"

"No."

"And you won't ever run away from me?"

"I don't know."

"You're afraid of me."

"Am I?"

"Aren't you?"

"I don't know," said Judith. "Look, there's the moon."

It was low above the trees, rising solemn and round and slow. It looked
reproachful and grave, like Neil's eyes. It was looking straight at
Judith. Judith tur